Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Once the weather cleared, the women were allowed outside. Tawny spotted Bette sitting in the bleachers and watching the lively basketball game between two self-proclaimed teams of inmates. She planted herself behind Bette and spoke softly, her mouth barely moving.
“Don’t look at me. I got your message. When can we talk about Lucy?”
“This afternoon. I’ll meet you in the library after you’re done tutoring and make sure we’re alone.”
“Have you told anyone else about me?”
“I’m not stupid.”
“Good. Continue to be smart and stop running your mouth about your conspiracy theories.”
Jo interrupted their conversation. “C’mon, T! We need you! We’re getting our asses kicked!”
Tawny grinned and left the bleachers without another word to Bette.
From the privacy of his office, Stoltz observed the basketball game playing out in the exercise yard on the closed-circuit video feed. Inmate Tawny Westfall captured his attention. Her athleticism impressed him as she dribbled, passed the ball, or sank baskets. When two of the women started pushing each other after one of them cost her team some points, Tawny stepped between them and kept the confrontation from escalating into a fistfight. The game resumed without another incident.
“Ginger is a leader,” Whitcomb remarked. “And a great fighter. She’ll be hard to control.”
“I’m not worried. Tawny Westfall will fall in line. She’s smart enough to know what’s good for her. We’ll get her in so deep that there won’t be any way out.”
“And when she’s outlived her usefulness?”
Stoltz watched Tawny hug her teammates after they scored the winning basket. “Then her fate is sealed.”
“Tawny is a beautiful woman. She doesn’t carry herself like the others. She’s special. It would be a shame to eliminate her.”
Whitcomb’s admiration for Tawny bothered Stoltz. He switched the video feed to other cameras in the complex. “Take off your blinders, Whitcomb. Tawny Westfall is a convict just like all the others. She deserves what happens to her.” His eyes narrowed in speculation. “If you touch her and put us in jeopardy, I’ll make sure you pay for it.”
Stoltz moved away from his desk and crossed his arms. “Now, what did you discover about this so-called lawyer representing Tawny?”
They knew better than to use a form of communication that could leave a trail, so Whitcomb removed a set of Polaroids from an envelope and spread them on Stoltz’s desk. The photos revealed a small, one-story clapboard house on the outskirts of Chino. Its weather-beaten facade—paint peeling off faded wooden boards, a screen door hanging lopsided, dirty windows sporting spider webs—indicated a lack of prosperity. A single sign that read TK Winchester, Esq., swung in the wind on rusty hinges. An old Impala sat in the back of the house.
“Ever hear of this guy?” Stoltz inquired.
“Not a guy. It’s a woman. Early thirties. I checked into her before I pretended to be a client. She runs a fly-by-night firm if you can even call it that. TK Winchester works out of one room that, as you can see, looks like a tornado hit it. Files and trash are everywhere. I took these pictures when she went to get me a bottle of water. She appeared busy, but not a single person called while I was there. I don’t think she has the intelligence or the resources to argue an appeal on Ginger’s behalf.”
Stoltz studied a picture of the messy office and one of TK Winchester that Whitcomb pulled from the internet. With her round face accentuated by black plastic-framed glasses, she reminded him of an owl with a sheepish expression rather than an intelligent one. But he wasn’t foolish enough to believe appearances couldn’t be deceiving. “What story did you give her?”
“The usual BS. I was in some legal trouble and needed advice. Kept it vague. I didn’t want to stay too long in case I raised suspicion.”
“And you walked away with the impression that TK Winchester isn’t a threat?” Stoltz harbored serious doubts.
Whitcomb nodded. “Yeah. Ginger probably hooked up with her through Google. TK Winchester isn’t making big bucks.”
“No? She’s putting money in Tawny’s commissary account.”
“A lot?”
“Just enough to cover the basics with a little extra.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it or TK Winchester. I’d worry about Ginger.”
Stoltz snorted. “I’ll take your warning under advisement.”
He sent Whitcomb back to his duty station. Stoltz took the photos into his private bathroom and set a match to them in the sink. After they burned to ashes, he washed them down the drain.
Stoltz used the toilet, flushed, and washed his hands. He took a paper towel and patted the shine from his head and face. Forbidden images of Tawny Westfall flooded his mind. He envisioned her stepping out of a shower stall, wrapped in a towel, water dripping from her flaming red hair. Sitting at a table in a classroom and looking serious and studious with Andee. Laughing during mealtime, her perfect, pearly white teeth flashing in amusement. Facing him, her incredible hazel eyes staring at him with unflinching bravado and daring brazenness. No. Whitcomb was wrong. Tawny Westfall wasn’t merely beautiful. She was a fucking goddess. A goddess who would never succumb to him.
Lust consumed him. His breathing grew ragged, conjuring images of Tawny lying naked, willing but helpless on his bed, writhing beneath him and begging him to take her hard and fast. He’d teach her a few tricks he’d learned, too, the kind of tricks designed to make her scream in the anguish of both pleasure and pain, scream his name over and over, “Mickey…Mickey…!”
The buzzing of the landline phone on his desk prevented the inevitable conclusion to his fantasy, and his eyes flew open. Sweat glistened on his face again, and he rinsed it off with water. When he reached his phone, he yanked the receiver from the cradle and viciously punched the insistent flashing red button.
“What is it?” he snapped, annoyed by Wendy’s untimely interruption of his fantasy. Stoltz hated his perky, unwanted, and unnecessary aide. He suspected the DOC planted her as a spy after that nasty business in a South Florida prison. He’d been fortunate that the network relocated him to California at just the right time; otherwise, he might be six feet under. The network wasn’t responsible for the previous warden’s sudden departure, but it moved with haste to ensure his appointment to the position. It, the organization that had recruited him for his potential, had long desired to gain a foothold in California, and now it had one. As long as no one cared about the missing women, everyone involved would continue to amass great wealth. And he needed it with two greedy ex-wives and their spoiled brats he’d never wanted in the first place.
“It’s time for rounds,” Wendy reminded him.
Her unflappable attitude in the face of Stoltz’s annoyance further annoyed him. He’d love to make her disappear, but a woman like her would cause the kind of uproar that would expose the network and bring about its downfall. It had witnessed the demise of too many organizations in the recent past.
“Yes, I know!” Stoltz slammed the receiver into its slot. He shrugged into his suit jacket and straightened his tie before heading off to perform the mundane duty.
Wendy wasn’t at her desk when he stepped out of his office. She was probably hiding in a bathroom bawling like a baby because he was curt with her. Not only did Stoltz hate his aide for her position, but for being a Gen Z’er—the whiniest, most entitled group of twenty-somethings to walk the planet. With their eyes glued to the screens of their smartphones and other advanced technology, they couldn’t think or reason to save their lives. This included his own ungrateful teenage children, who were robbing him blind. Thus, his extracurricular activities.
He strode the interior of the campus, checking security and caring only that the inmates behaved, performed their various duties, and that the guards maintained order. The women avoided eye contact with him, not out of fear but out of loathing. His awareness of their feelings about him didn’t cause Stoltz the least bit of concern, for he returned their loathing. The previous warden had been too soft, too kind, too much of a do-gooder, and now he was forced to correct his mistakes with a tough, no-nonsense approach. In another year, maybe less, Stoltz would disappear with his fortune. To hell with his exes and his kids. He didn’t care if he ever saw them again.
Stoltz usually ended his rounds at the vegetable and herb garden and the flower beds tended to by the inmates. He knew Tawny Westfall’s rotation in the gardens was today and enjoyed watching her. The bright sunshine turned her red hair to molten flames, and his pulse raced with his increased heartbeat. Dirt and sweat streaked her face and stained her prison jumpsuit, and still, her unparalleled beauty awed him.
When his shadow fell over her, Tawny made eye contact with him and offered a caustic smile as she pointed at a shovel between two rows of plants. “Care to lend a helping hand, Warden?”
Jo and Yolanda ceased weeding the flower beds and stared at him, awaiting his response. Damn her . Stoltz returned her foxlike smile with one of his own. “I’m not dressed for working in the dirt.”
Tawny tossed a shovelful of dirt at his feet. Some of it landed on his shiny black dress shoes. “Neither are we.”
Jo, Yolanda, and a few other women who heard their exchange chortled as they resumed gardening. Heat climbed Stoltz’s neck and into his face. He opened his mouth to rebuke her, threaten her, and say anything that would wipe the disdain from Tawny’s face, but closed it again. He could bide his time to destroy her.
Tawny slipped unseen into the prison library after her tutoring session. She had earned unlimited access due to her tutoring, and the guards knew where she was and trusted her. She ventured down an aisle toward the back of the library, perusing the titles of historical fiction.
Bette approached stealthily and stood on the other side of the black metal bookshelves. “Were you followed?”
“No. You?”
“I don’t think so. I bribed a guard who likes me to let me have some privacy in here.”
“Did you offer him sex?”
“Yeah. And before you judge me, a girl’s gotta do what’s necessary to survive in here. You know what we’re up against every day.”
Tawny did, and she silently vowed to clean house. “Let’s talk about Lucy. What do you know or suspect about her death?”
“Being a trustee, Lucy had a lot of freedom. She had access to places where she overheard stuff that got her killed.”
“Like what?”
“Judge Cohen, Perry Jones, and Warden Stoltz are into something. I wasn’t spoutin’ off conspiracy theories, neither. They’re using us, maybe for sex trafficking or drugs, Lucy wasn’t sure. But when Stoltz caught on to her snooping, someone murdered her with a shitload of drugs shoved into her.”
Tawny’s stomach rolled with grief for her friend, and the desire to get justice for Lucy burned hot inside her. “What do you know about fire camp? Is it connected to the overdoses and disappearances?”
“Fire camp? Maybe. Most of the women wash out of the program and don’t talk about it.”
“All right. Listen, Bette, you’re not safe. I’m getting you out of here.”
“How?”
“Do you have a cell phone?”
“No, but I can get one. Wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
While she waited for Bette to rejoin her, Tawny debated how to get Bette out of the prison. They could stage a serious medical emergency that Dr. Sadler wasn’t equipped to handle, or they could use Tawny’s escape plan through the laundry. Indecision tormented her.
“Talk to me, guys. I need you.”
In the past three years, she’d learned to function as a member of a close-knit team, something as a desk sergeant she’d never needed. Used to strategizing with Justice, Hutch, River, Martini, and Dooley, she suffered from feelings of isolation and loneliness, and now, doubt.
“Stay calm, Sergeant. Don’t panic. You’re not alone.”
Justice’s gentle but firm voice echoed in the empty library. She heard it, clear as a bell, and startled, Tawny’s head swiveled. She half-expected to see the chief standing behind her.
Knowing the guys as well as she did, they would advise her to choose the less dangerous option.
“The medical emergency is less risky,” Tawny mused. “But how to pull it off?”
Bette, breathing hard, interrupted her thoughts. She bent over and tried to catch her breath. “I got it,” she gasped and reached into a pocket. “You want or need anything like a cell phone, you go to Grandma Mo. She’s the oldest inmate on our cell block. I think she’s in her seventies or something.”
“What’d she do to land herself in prison?”
“Story goes someone murdered her husband, and Mo went all Charles Bronson on them. Took out an entire gang of hoodlums. Seems like she was former military. Remember the original Death Wish ? Bruce Willis’ remake was solid, but Charles Bronson was the man back in the day. Anyway, she’s been here so long no one considers her dangerous anymore. Mo basically runs the place but in a good way.” Bette handed the cell phone to Tawny. “Who are you calling? Your handler? I watch a lot of cop dramas.”
“Yes. Now hush, Bette.” Tawny called Teagan and prayed she’d answer the phone. When the agent’s strong, reassuring voice came on the line, she let out her breath.
“Tawny? Is this you?”
“It’s me. We have a problem. I’ve been made by Lucy’s cellmate, Bette Simpson. She has information that puts a target on her back. We have to get her out of here. What if we create a medical emergency?”
“Sounds doable. Wait a sec while I run it by SAC Cofield.”
Bette grew antsy. “Come on, come on. We ain’t got all day. The guards are gonna get suspicious.”
“Calm down,” Tawny ordered, then gave herself the same command.
Teagan returned to the call. “Listen, Tawny, we can use Dr. Sadler. She was sued for malpractice and lost in court. She was fired from San Francisco General Hospital and blacklisted from practicing elsewhere. Dr. Sadler is lucky that she didn’t lose her medical license.”
“So, how does that help us?”
“We’ll enlist her aid in bringing a CI to safety. She won’t know about you. We’ll promise her a position at a hospital of her choosing when this is over. The easiest way to create a medical emergency is to fake a heart attack.” Teagan outlined her plan. “Simple.”
“How will we know when it’s time?”
“You won’t. You cannot be associated with this in any way. Bette will know. When it happens, do nothing. Stand back and let the guards take the lead.”
“And if they don’t?”
“An inmate will.”
“Can you at least give me a time frame?”
“Within twenty-four hours.”
“That narrows it down,” Tawny remarked in a sardonic voice.
“You’re doing great, Tawny. In case you need a reminder, we’ve got eyes on you 24/7.”
“Thanks to Tex’s amazing technology. By the way, Bette is going to need Cameron McAdams to represent her.”
“Right. We’ll take care of our asset. And you need to take care of yourself.”
Tawny pressed the END button and returned the cell phone to Bette. “You’re on, Bette. Time to give an Oscar worthy performance.”
Bette’s face split into a wide grin. “I watch a lot of medical dramas.”